


peace of mind

by thunderylee



Series: kinktober 2020 [8]
Category: KAT-TUN (Band), NEWS (Japan Band)
Genre: Alien Abduction, Canon Universe, Emotional Telepathy, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance?, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:53:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27149683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Nakamaru gets abducted by aliens and nobody believes him.
Relationships: Masuda Takahisa/Nakamaru Yuichi
Series: kinktober 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954222
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	peace of mind

**Author's Note:**

> kinktober day 21: tentacles.

The downside to being mundane and predictable is that when something exciting actually happens, nobody believes it.

Nakamaru was abducted by aliens. It’s _true._ He saw the bright light from his bedroom window, went out on the balcony to see what was going on, and was beamed up to a spaceship. They hooked him up to machines and ran all kinds of tests, then did something akin to a photo flash to his whole body and sent him back down. The whole process took maybe ten minutes.

The aliens weren’t green and gross with no hair like in the movies. Nakamaru’s not usually inclined toward the extraterrestrial, but these particular aliens were _beautiful_. Their features were smooth, their skin color a variety of pastel hues, their hair long and shimmering with two big eyes. If he had to assign a gender to them, it would be female, though their voices were deep and they had phalluses as well as breasts.

They also had tentacles. It was interesting to watch them work, rarely using their actual hands for anything. One of them even wrote notes that way. Nakamaru could get so much more done if he had six additional limbs that he could use like regular arms and hands. They seemed to extend too, retrieving things from across the lab without moving.

He tried to talk to them, but they didn’t seem to communicate the same way. Every time he said something, he would feel a strong sensation in response, like comfort or happiness. It’s as though they spoke with feelings instead of words, telepathically. He may not have gotten any answers out of them, but at least he wasn’t scared.

Kame and Ueda aren’t having any of it though. Nakamaru had thought Kame in particular would be interested to hear about the aliens, but he just laughs and asks if Nakamaru’s pregnant now. Meanwhile, Ueda makes anal probe jokes.

Massu looks like he wants to do the same thing but can’t bring himself to be mean to Nakamaru. He listens patiently while Nakamaru relays the whole event, nodding to appear interested. Nakamaru makes sure to emphasize that nothing was penetrated anywhere.

“I guess I was chosen as a representative of Earth because I’m so ordinary,” Nakamaru theorizes out loud.

“You _are_ ordinary,” Massu agrees.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Not a single word.”

Nakamaru frowns. His frown isn’t nearly as effective on Massu as the reverse, so Massu just returns to his meal indifferently. Suddenly, he brings his hands to his forehead and inhales sharply.

“Are you okay, Taka?”

“Yeah. I just got really sad.”

“About what?”

“I’m not sure. I was just like...flooded with guilt.”

Nakamaru blinks, wondering what he can do to cheer up someone when he doesn’t know what’s wrong, then Massu’s smile returns.

“Ah, I’m happy again. That was weird.”

He goes back to eating while Nakamaru stares at him incredulously. Massu doesn’t notice, engaging him in an impromptu roast of Tegoshi’s unfortunate clothing choices on Instagram, and Nakamaru joins in halfheartedly. His mind is definitely someplace else.

The next time he meets up with his groupmates, he conducts some experiments. When Ueda starts to get pissed off that they still haven’t been given any new work, Nakamaru concentrates to send him calming vibes. Immediately, Ueda takes a deep breath and says that he hopes they hear something soon in the softest voice Nakamaru has heard from him in at least ten years.

Kame’s a little more difficult. He’s so walled off that it takes several minutes and all of Nakamaru’s energy to break through. When Kame smiles in a way that Nakamaru hasn’t seen since they were kids, he knows he succeeded.

“You’re making a funny face,” Kame tells him, booping him on the nose before bouncing happily to his place in the formation.

Ueda peers at Nakamaru, right in his personal space. “It looks the same to me.”

Sighing, Nakamaru resigns to being the butt of the group regardless of how many members they have. It’s certainly not the first time he’s sacrificed his dignity to keep the peace.

The next few days are spent honing his new talent. He cheers up the baristas at his favorite indie coffee shop, quiets a screaming child on the train, and stops a fanperson from making a scene in the bookstore, all with the power of his mind. He tries it over video chat with his dad, but there’s not even a hitch in his old man’s long-winded political rant. It must not work unless the other person is physically around him.

He can’t do it with multiple people at the same time, either. And he can’t use it to get what he wants, as he learns when he tries to encourage one of the interns on Shuuichi to give him their number. At least they’re cheerful while they turn him down.

It doesn’t work on his dogs, nor his neighbors who spend their evenings screaming at each other loud enough to be heard through the walls. It doesn’t ripen his fruit any faster or keep his internet connection from dropping. Literally all he can do is alter the moods of people who are right in front of him, and only until something new comes along to change it.

As far as superpowers go, this one is kind of useless, but he feels a little better knowing that he’s helping people improve their days, for a little while anyway. He practices throwing good vibes to everyone he looks at until it’s second nature. He’s practically ramming positivity into Kame’s head every time they work together. It’s exhausting.

He can’t bring himself to push any negative feelings onto others, especially strangers. After seeing Massu look so pained at his unexpected guilt, it actually made _Nakamaru_ sad to think about doing that to someone else, especially a stranger. Even when people are rude or belittle him, they usually apologize or just leave him alone from a single telepathic dose of happiness.

Naturally, nobody believed him about this either, but their laughing was good-natured due to their higher spirits.

The only thing that really changed was that Massu wanted to spend more time with him. That wouldn’t have even been noticeable if Ueda hadn’t pointed it out, teasing him about his _husband_ like hanging out every week is grounds for a ring.

“Honestly, isn’t that ridiculous?” he complains to Massu over takeout later that night.

“Who knows?” Massu replies evasively, stuffing his face.

Nakamaru peers at him.

“I mean, relationships are subjective, aren’t they?” Massu goes on, speaking in that soft, questioning way he does when he’s trying to work out something in his head. “If we were both the type of people who only needed emotional support to be satisfied, we could very well be having a relationship doing only what we’re doing now. Right?”

“I guess...” Nakamaru trails off. “Taka, is there something you want to tell me?”

“Just that I feel good when I’m around you, and it makes me want to be around you more.”

Massu shrugs, then returns to picking at his takeout box like he hadn’t said anything particularly life-altering. Nakamaru has a passing revelation that shoving more positivity into an already-positive brain could result in some kind of serotonin overdose where the part that filters out thoughts for social acceptance is completely shut down. At the same time, the nasty nagging voice in the back of his mind tells him that he’s actually _brainwashing_ Massu into having feelings for him.

Nakamaru continues to stare while Massu continues to eat.

“Humor me for a minute,” Nakamaru says, then disappears into his bedroom, closing the door for good measure.

He picks up his phone and hits the first speed dial.

“Hello?”

Massu’s voice is just as cheerful over the phone as it is any other time, even if his mouth is full.

“Hey. Do you still feel like you want to be around me more?”

Massu doesn’t answer right away, seeming to seriously think about his answer.

“Yup.”

“Okay, thanks.”

He hangs up and frowns at his reflection in the full-length mirror by his bedroom door, cursing those damn aliens for not giving him an instruction manual. Not for the first time, he considers that he’s an experiment in some kind of life simulation and directs his glare upwards, directing his emotional telepathy to demand some answers.

His ceiling doesn’t move.

One deep breath later, he returns to Massu in his dining room. Massu has finished his own meal and is now unapologetically poking at Nakamaru’s. Instead of giving permission, Nakamaru wells up his misplaced frustration and throws it across the room—figuratively that is.

“Sorry,” Massu says suddenly, pushing the box away.

Immediately, Nakamaru feels bad. “No, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“I did though.”

Massu stares at him, and Nakamaru considers the possibility that Massu can also manipulate other people’s emotions when he feels much better just looking into Massu’s nonjudgmental eyes. He’s always been comfortable saying anything to Massu, no matter how awful or hurtful it would be to someone else. They’ve known each other long enough to not assume the worst regardless of the words and tone used.

“Sometimes, I think it might be okay to be in love with you.”

Nakamaru gasps, because Massu’s mouth was moving with the feelings that were stirring in his own heart.

“No,” he says quickly, breaking their eye contact and holding on to the back of a dining chair for support. “You don’t really feel that. I’m making you say that.”

Anyone else would have jumped up with protests, but Massu stays where he is. There’s a moment of silence, which Nakamaru finds both awkward and calming, then Massu’s chair scrapes lightly along the linoleum floor.

“Do you still think you’re putting feelings into my head?”

“I _am_ putting feelings into your head, Taka. And now I’ve compelled you to think of me _that_ way.”

“I don’t want to take you to bed, if that’s what you mean. Honestly, this is something that’s been marinating in the back of my mind for a while. I guess it’s just ready to come out today.”

Nakamaru stares at the cushion on the chair he’s grasping onto. “I don’t believe you.”

“Have you convinced yourself that you’re so unlovable that you don’t trust someone to develop feelings for you without it being some kind of alien interference?”

“When did you become my therapist?”

“Answer the question, Yuichi.”

“I don’t trust _you_ to feel that way,” Nakamaru blurts out. “We’re not those kind of friends.”

“Not yet. But we could be.”

Nakamaru hangs his head, pushing away all of the pleasant images that clutter his mind. He doesn’t deserve them after basically casting a love spell on his innocent best friend.

“Just think about it, okay? In the meantime, we’ll continue existing together like we normally do.”

Without taking so much as a breath, Massu jumps right into something that happened on the set of How to Succeed like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Nakamaru. Nakamaru laughs appropriately and pries his hands away from the back of the dining chair, but inside he’s screaming. Good thing he learned how to keep his own emotions from affecting others, or Massu would be seriously concerned right now instead of chatting amiably.

They relocate to the couch to watch this Netflix documentary Nakamaru has been wanting to see, which doesn’t distract his mind nearly as much as he wishes it would. He’s still aware of how close he’s sitting to Massu, despite usually sitting like this to the point where both of their butts have indentations in his couch. Hell, Nakamaru sits closer to Ueda when they’re watching TikToks on his phone during breaks.

He’s just more affected by it now that he’s _not_ thinking about reaching out to touch him. It would be so easy to just move his arm a few inches and make contact, maybe brush Massu’s hand with his or just rest it on his forearm. Massu’s a human heater even in the winter, so he’s still wearing short sleeves as the temperature drops.

Instead, both of his hands tighten on his own knees, which are closer to each other than usual to keep more space between them.

The documentary gets interesting and he becomes completely engrossed, forgetting about Massu aside from the brief commentary during slow parts. Now, he’s just someone Nakamaru happens to be watching TV with, whose opinion he values enough to deeply discuss the topic. Massu’s not typically a deep person by nature, but that just means he doesn’t challenge Nakamaru’s philosophical evaluations of someone’s mindset. It’s like talking to himself, but with validation.

“That feels nice.”

Nakamaru blinks, effectively pulling himself out of his documentary trance, because Massu’s words do not fit the gratuitous massacre that is playing out on his TV right now. Not wanting to jump to disturbing conclusions, he forces his voice to be even.

“What does?”

Massu laughs. “You’re cute. We don’t have to talk about it. I just thought I’d let you know.”

“I honestly have no idea what you are talking about.”

“You’re touching my hand, Yuichi.”

“I’m not though.”

“Stop lying.”

“I’m not lying! Both of my hands are on my knees.”

Nakamaru tears his eyes away from the TV at the same time Massu does. Both of his hands truly are on his knees. Next to them, however, the bulb-like end of a slim, flesh-colored cord is sliding back and forth over Massu’s knuckles.

Naturally, Massu yanks his hand away and scrambles toward the end of the couch, practically climbing up onto the back cushion. He looks _terrified_ , cradling his hand to his chest while staring at the cord that seems to be patting the cushion in search of him.

Nakamaru realizes two things at once: first, this is what the tentacles on the aliens looked like, and two, he can feel the soft suede of his couch right now with both of his hands on his knees.

“I think it’s mine,” he says carefully. The _appendage_ seems to perk up at his voice, turning to point its bulb toward him like it were being addressed.

“ _What the fuck is it_.”

“A tentacle.”

Massu stares at him like he’d grown a second head, which Nakamaru supposes he kind of did.

“ _Why_ do you have a tentacle?”

“The aliens must have given it to me along with emotional telepathy.”

“You’re still going on about that...”

“Well, where do you think it came from then?!”

“I don’t know!”

Massu’s chest is visibly heaving with his quickening breaths. For a second, Nakamaru thinks he might be hyperventilating, but Massu manages to calm himself enough to sit on the actual couch instead of the arm.

“So you can control that thing?”

“I think so.”

Nakamaru tries to tell the tentacle to retreat, but it just tilts its bulb at him in confusion. Even scrunching his face up and concentrating doesn’t seem to do anything. However, when Massu slowly reaches out his hand, that seems to get its attention. It starts to shoot toward Massu, then pauses when Massu retreats again. The next movement is slower, enough to lure Massu’s hand closer before making contact with it again.

“Can you feel it?”

Massu’s voice is almost nonexistent, like he’ll scare the tentacle if he speaks any louder, but Nakamaru’s more concerned by the strange sensation he gets. It’s like he’s actually touching Massu’s knuckles with his fingers when his hands are clutching his knees almost painfully.

“Yeah,” he says, and _now_ the tentacle moves how he wants it to. Around Massu’s knuckles to his thumb, effectively turning over his hand and lacing over and under each finger.

Massu spreads his fingers apart, then closes them in a way that gives Nakamaru a rush of pleasure. Massu’s thumb rubs against it just like he were holding Nakamaru’s hand, and a tiny gasp escapes from Nakamaru’s lips, earning a concerned look from Massu.

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Does it feel good?”

Nakamaru doesn’t answer, not quite ready to admit how this makes him feel. When he’d been watching the aliens work so diligently with their extra limbs, he’d assumed they were more like arms, but having one now he’s not so sure. The concept of it being another _penis_ seems ridiculous, even if that’s a close approximation to what he feels from Massu’s touch. A long, thin, spindly penis.

“Taka, I don’t think you should touch it until I get better control of it.”

“What, do you think it will choke me or something?”

In that moment, Nakamaru is convinced that Massu has never seen tentacle porn. He must have an interesting expression on his face, because Massu bursts out laughing.

“If it’s part of you, it can’t be that dangerous, right? You don’t have a malicious bone in your body.”

Nakamaru’s not sure how to explain that he’s more worried about touching Massu inappropriately than hurting him, so he just sighs and works on commanding the tentacle while it’s wrapped around Massu’s hand. Better than anywhere else, he supposes.

“Is there just one?” Massu asks curiously.

Nakamaru does a quick internal scan of his torso and doesn’t notice anything different. Then again, he doesn’t feel where the tentacle is attached to him either, so he pulls up his shirt and looks with his eyes. Massu seems to catch on and helps, pushing the shirt over his head and examining his back.

“Ah, there it is.”

Massu traces the entire length of the tentacle to the right side of Nakamaru’s rib cage. They both turn to look at the same spot on the other side, but there’s nothing there. Massu even pokes at it enough for Nakamaru to wince. Nothing comes out.

“I guess they just gave me one to try out.”

“I guess I have to actually believe your abduction story now.”

“How else would I suddenly grow a tentacle?”

Massu sighs. Instead of answering, he runs his finger along the tentacle back to the bulb, making Nakamaru visibly shiver. It really does feel like Massu is teasing his dick.

“Full disclosure,” he forces himself to say. “I find this very arousing.”

“Oh.”

Massu peers at his hand that the tentacle has wrapped back around, and even Nakamaru can see that it’s not entirely Massu’s choice to keep it going. When Massu tries to slip his hand away, the tentacle tightens its grip.

“You’re giving me mixed signals, dude.”

Nakamaru actually laughs. This situation is just so ridiculous that it’s all he can do. He catches Massu’s eye and sees that he’s laughing too, shaking his head incredulously with a bit of a tint to his cheeks. Was he blushing? It looks kind of cute.

Then Massu lifts up his hand and presses his lips right on the bulb.

Nakamaru moans.

“You look scared,” Massu points out. “Is this not what you want?”

“Is this what _you_ want? An hour ago you were confessing to me.”

“Then it’s obvious what I want, isn’t it?”

Nakamaru’s jaw drops when the tentacle abandons Massu’s hand for his face, the bulb poking insistently between those plump lips. A pink tongue darts out to lick it, which Nakamaru feels right where his pants are getting tight.

“Clearly, I can’t control it yet,” he hisses through his teeth. “I don’t know what it will do to you.”

A guttural noise tears from Nakamaru’s lungs when Massu pinches the tentacle with two fingers and pries it away from him. It doesn’t appear to take a lot of strength, though eventually the tentacle seems to give up and returns dejectedly to Nakamaru’s lap.

“See? I can stop it if I want to. But what I’m trying to tell you is: I don’t want to.”

“You don’t know what you’re consenting to.”

“Hopefully it involves you making more of those noises.”

Nakamaru takes a deep breath and turns to face Massu on the couch. As he tries to find his words, he plays with fingers like he usually does, only this time the tentacle tries to wrap around _him_ now. He freezes, feeling like he just shoved his hand down his pants in front of Massu.

“Maybe I’ll just go,” Massu says slowly. “Give you some time to adapt to it. We missed most of the last half of the documentary anyway.”

“Taka, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t even worry about it. Just think about what I said, okay? I still like you, even if you’re part alien now.”

Nakamaru feels his face heat up. “Thanks.”

Massu just flashes one of his sunny smiles as he reaches for his keys and lets himself out. Once the door closes behind him, Nakamaru glares traitorously at his new appendage and it shudders. At least something is afraid of him.

He spends the next couple days trying to train it. It reminds him a lot of his dogs, only he can feel whatever it does. After some trial and error, he determines that it runs completely off of his impulses with no filter like his brain has. His tentacle does what he would do if there were no rules or social propriety.

This means that he must really want Massu. He’d been lying if he said he hasn’t thought about his best friend like that before, but nothing has really happened to push them together until now. He didn’t even think he was attracted to Massu until he watched the bulb of his tentacle push between those gorgeous lips of his. Suddenly, Massu is _hot_ , and Nakamaru wants to touch that body with more than just a tentacle.

He’s still not convinced that Massu isn’t just reacting to the forced emotions though. These few days apart should clear that up easily enough, since Massu would have returned to his own feelings by now. If he still wants Nakamaru after that, well, Nakamaru doesn’t have a good reason to say no.

He finds a way to hide the tentacle while at work, inwardly thanking Ueda’s brief interest in shibari for the combination of ties that kept it hidden and immobile. Who knew what it would do if left to its own devices in public; if Nakamaru didn’t know about his secret desire for Massu before now, anything is possible.

Work passes without incident. He has a meeting with KAT-TUN and considers telling them for as long as it takes him to realize what would happen if he did. While they would finally stop teasing him about ass babies, they probably wouldn’t be as considerate as Massu in regards to leaving him alone.

By the end of the week, he can navigate it a little. He’s still working on gripping objects, but he can cast it across the room and back. His dogs especially enjoy chasing it as much as any other toy, though they don’t understand that they can’t bite it. That was an excruciating level of pain Nakamaru only wants to experience once.

He’s a little surprised that Massu hasn’t contacted him yet. Sometimes they can go for months without talking, but they’ve never stopped on this kind of cliffhanger before. Nakamaru can only imagine what’s going through Massu’s mind right now—will he or won’t he—and that’s inevitably what has him picking up the phone, because if he’s being honest with himself, he hasn’t been thinking about it because he already made up his mind.

“Hello!” Massu answers cheerfully. “How are you?”

“Better. Are you free soon?”

“I am free very shortly, actually. We are just finishing up rehearsal.”

“Oh, tell Koyama-kun and Kato-kun I say hi.”

“Will do. How does seven sound?”

“Great. I’ll throw something together to eat, if you want?”

“ _Yes_. I love when you cook.”

“That’s high praise, coming from you.”

Massu laughs and says he has to get back to work. When Nakamaru swipes to end the call, he realizes his face hurts from smiling. He could get used to this.

As seven rolls around, he’s not even nervous. He’d been practicing picking things up with his tentacle for a few hours now and he’s gotten better at it. He supposes it’s just another muscle he has to exercise in order to use properly. He wonders how much weight it can bench.

He’s not much of a chef, but karaage isn’t really that complicated. He had some chicken he needed to use up anyway. He’s almost done frying when there’s a knock at the door, and on a whim he sends his tentacle across the room to unlock it.

“Come in!”

He feels mildly successful when Massu appears a few seconds later.

“Ooh, karaage,” he says happily, floating a little as he sniffs the plate Nakamaru has already finished. “Oh, and hello.”

Nakamaru laughs. “Hello. How was rehearsal?”

“The usual. I think my groupmates have joined forces with yours to get us hitched.”

“Little do they know, huh?”

“Exactly.”

Nakamaru finishes frying the last batch and they sit down to eat. He’d pulled out the good beer from the back of the fridge and takes a long swig of his before facing Massu at his dining table once again.

“I accept your feelings.”

“Thank you. I look forward to enhancing our friendship.”

That’s that. They eat and Nakamaru shares his progress with the tentacle. Massu looks impressed when it picks up a pair of chopsticks, even if it gets rice all over the place trying to make it into Nakamaru’s mouth.

“You talk about it like it’s another pet, not a part of you.”

“That’s what it feels like.”

After devouring all of the chicken, they relocate to the couch and try to watch the rest of the documentary from last week. This time, Nakamaru actively sends the tentacle over to Massu’s hand, figuring that he doesn’t have to worry about it if it’s already getting what it wants.

“It feels bigger.”

Massu rubs the skin in a way that has Nakamaru shifting a little.

“Building muscle, I guess.”

“I like it.”

“I’m glad.”

They make it all the way through the documentary, even engaging in a post-discussion before Massu twists the tentacle in his fingers, making Nakamaru yelp.

“I want to pick up where we left off last week,” he says clearly.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’ve done nothing but think about it since, and I _know_ you did not put some of these feelings into my head.”

Nakamaru looks down at where his tentacle is throbbing happily at being squeezed. His face is burning, his arousal soaring, but he weaves his way up to Massu’s mouth again.

This time, Massu sucks the bulb right past his lips, and Nakamaru nearly sobs at how good it feels. Massu flicks it with his tongue and Nakamaru’s hand shoots out to land on Massu’s knee, about as automatic as the tentacle had been.

The way Massu stares into his eyes the whole time makes it even better. His lips are a little shiny when he pushes the bulb back out, leaving it free to slide along his jaw and neck while Nakamaru inches his way up Massu’s thigh.

“Hey,” Massu says suddenly, and Nakamaru freezes all of his limbs. “You don’t have to stop! I just wanted to tell you that it takes me a little while to get going like this. Do you think you could push some feelings into my mind to...turn me on?”

“You want me to force you to be into it?”

“I’m consenting to it now!”

“I don’t think I can do that, Taka.”

“I’m telling you, I want it—”

“That’s not it.” Nakamaru sighs. “Those kinds of feelings come from physical sensations and hormones, not emotions. I can make you feel more relaxed, but I can’t just fill your mind with sexy thoughts.”

Massu pouts at him.

“I can, however, turn you on the _human_ way.”

Massu gasps when Nakamaru closes the distance between them, his hand sliding up Massu’s smooth jaw to kiss him. It’s light at first, giving Massu time to get used to being close to him like this, but it’s Massu who licks between Nakamaru’s lips and deepens it. For someone who claims he isn’t aroused, he sure kisses like he is.

Hands grip onto his waist and Nakamaru moans softly as they toy with the hem of his shirt. He pulls back long enough to yank the shirt over his head, then returns to Massu’s mouth while Massu feels his way around Nakamaru’s back and chest. The tentacle beats Nakamaru’s hands under Massu’s shirt, earning a beautiful noise that goes right between Nakamaru’s legs. It’s a team effort to remove his shirt, mostly because Massu doesn’t want to stop kissing long enough to get it over his head, but it’s worth it when Nakamaru can feel those muscles beneath his hands.

“How am I doing?” Nakamaru teases when they come up for air, though he doesn’t actually leave Massu’s skin as he mouths his way around Massu’s neck.

“Getting there.”

Massu sounds a little breathless, which has Nakamaru feeling like a god. He earns a faint moan when he sucks on a particular spot by Massu’s hairline, so he does it again and feels the body in his arms jerk. Then he notices his tentacle has slid up Massu’s chest and latched onto a nipple, which has Massu clutching onto Nakamaru and pressing closer against him.

“What does it feel like?” Nakamaru asks curiously. In all of his training, he hadn’t thought to touch _himself_ with his new appendage.

“Like a vibrator.”

“How do you know what a vibrator feels like?”

“I don’t need to tell you all of my secrets on the first date, Yuichi.”

Nakamaru lets out a laugh before kissing his way back into Massu’s mouth, which is happily received. The next thing he knows, he’s horizontal, Massu’s full weight on top of him as he’s ravished on his own couch. Something hard presses between his legs and they both moan, Massu’s hips rocking in a way they have no business doing off stage and Nakamaru’s not mad at that at all.

It may take Massu a while to get going, but once he does, he is a force to be reckoned with. He’s the one to fumble with both of the fastenings on their pants and wrap strong fingers around Nakamaru’s cock, making a pleased noise at the way Nakamaru whines and thrusts into his hand.

“Is it too weird if I ask you to put the tentacle inside me?”

Nakamaru chokes on his air, but the tentacle is already slipping past Massu’s open waistband on its own. Nakamaru supposes he should be happy it waited for permission first.

“It _is_ too weird, isn’t it? Forget I asked. I just—”

Massu interrupts himself with a sudden noise, and Nakamaru’s concerned for as long as it takes him to feel something clenching against the bulb of the tentacle. It’s not pushing in right away, rather rubbing against the ring of muscle in an attempt to loosen it, and Nakamaru belatedly realizes that may be because it _can’t_ push in.

“I think we need to lube it.”

“Oh, I brought some.”

“You did? Why?”

“I didn’t decide I wanted this just now, you know.”

“ _Oh_.”

Nakamaru gets even hotter at the realization that _this_ is what Massu’s been thinking about all week, or at least some of it. It’s definitely the easiest way to have sex, since the tentacle isn’t much thicker than two fingers at the bulb and it feels pretty much the same to Nakamaru. He also realizes that this isn’t the _only_ way they can have sex. At the same time.

“Taka, will you go inside me too?”

Massu groans so low that Nakamaru feels it vibrating his chest. He’d managed to retrieve a bottle from his bag, and now he reaches in it again for a condom. Nakamaru supposes that’s his answer, wiggling out of his pants and underwear as much as he can with Massu weighing him down.

He arches at the first touch of slick fingers between his legs, but Massu kisses him enough to relax him. It helps that his tentacle is happily making its way inside of Massu at the same time, much more easily with lube. Nakamaru can tell when he hits the right spot because Massu moans out loud and rocks against him, fingers prodding him a bit deeper and stretching him until he can get in all three.

“Now,” Nakamaru whispers, and that’s all he has to say.

Massu kisses him deeply before entering him, clinging to him like he needs to adapt as much as Nakamaru does. His hair falls into his face and Nakamaru brushes it out of his eyes, taking in Massu’s flushed face, lips swollen and wet. He’s still rocking from the tentacle, but not enough to move inside Nakamaru.

“How does it feel?” Nakamaru asks, his voice all air.

“Amazing. How does it feel for you?”

“Amazing.”

Neither of them are particularly good with words, but the feelings speak for themselves. Massu gives a small thrust and they both cry out, but he doesn’t stop. He works his way up to full speed, fucking Nakamaru within an inch of his life, and Nakamaru returns the favor on Massu, his tentacle pistoning fast and deep.

“Can you finish like this?” Massu gets out between moans.

“I don’t know,” Nakamaru answers honestly. “I guess we’ll find out.”

“Or I can just do this.”

Massu’s hand returns to Nakamaru’s cock and Nakamaru arches, so overwhelmed by the triple stimulation that he can’t focus on anything else. He can barely hear Massu’s grunts and groans over his own noises, his body jerking as it gears up for an orgasm that might just knock him out.

“Right there,” Massu breathes into his neck, and he hears that one loud and clear. “I’m gonna come.”

Massu’s release is so hot that he takes Nakamaru with him, his cock erupting between them as Massu jerks to a still on top of him. The tentacle slips out and lies dormant to the side, like it too were exhausted from all the action.

It takes Nakamaru a moment to recuperate, but Massu seems just as inclined to stay right where he is. While they have to move eventually, right now they’re content, especially when Massu leans up to press his lips to Nakamaru’s in a light kiss.

Up above earth, two aliens are reading data on their screens from their latest human experiment. Their subject has not only mastered their communication system, but he is well on his way to adapting to a third limb. They’re not sure why his energy levels are so low though, so they send him another tentacle in case that helps.

Regardless, there is hope for the universe after all.


End file.
